


A Timeshare in Paradise

by cassbuttandsquirrel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coda, Dean Winchester Confesses Feelings for Castiel, Family, Found Family, M/M, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-Episode: s15e20 Carry On, can't believe i have to tag that now, deancas reunion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-10 08:13:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27650057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cassbuttandsquirrel/pseuds/cassbuttandsquirrel
Summary: The good times are here (forever) and Dean's looking for someone to share them with.[Writing this gave me a little peace, and I hope it can do the same for you.]
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 12
Kudos: 95
Collections: SPN Finale "Destiel is CANON" Collection





	A Timeshare in Paradise

**Author's Note:**

> *paul rudd voice* Hey, look at us. Look at us. Who thought we'd be here huh? Not me.
> 
> Here we fucking are at the end of the line, kids, and I don't know about you but I've been crying my weight in tears. Writing this gave me a little peace, and I hope it can do the same for you. So much love to you all, cassbuttandsquirrel <3

Of course, Cas is waiting for him.

Dean hadn't given anything much thought after he slid behind the wheel of the impala; just lost himself in the easy give of the leather under his palms and the familiar rumble of the asphalt disappearing beneath him. There was a peace in knowing that around the next bend would be Sam, and everything would be set right again. And this time, this time, set right forever.

But it's something about the good times that presses an ache deep inside his chest. Him and Sam might be everything he needs, but that was God's Green Earth bullshit and this,  _ this _ , is Paradise. And Dean can have anything he wants. 

The drive with Sam back to Harvelle's is the perfect amount of time; long enough that Sam can brag about his white-picket fence life, but not so long that Dean wants to kill him for it. He's glad to hear it was with Eileen. If there were any two hunters that found peace, he's glad that it was them. He absolutely doesn't tear up when Sammy tells him about Dean Junior with such pride in his voice, and if he does, it's definitely not when Sam talks about all the unexpected ways Dean mimicked his uncle. The way he liked to prop his legs up on any available surface and slouch down into his chair. The way he threw his backpack on the table every goddamn day after school and how it drove his dad crazy, just like it had when they were just two brothers on the road. 

Dean doesn't have time to feel jealous and nothing Sam says makes him feel guilty for taking his exit early. All he feels is pride and joy and peace, and it's reflected in the look on his brother's face in the seat beside him. Dean feels like he might burst from the blazing glory of it all, but as Sam points out the silhouette of his homestead as they drive the last few miles to the roadhouse, he's aware of the yawning, gaping hole just behind his sternum. It's the best times that are the loneliest.

They swing through the roadhouse doors like they belong there, and are immediately rushed by Jo and Ellen (and Ash, eventually, when the general ruckus pulls him out of his backroom office). 

It's only when Dean's wiped the tears from his eyes and is getting smothered by his second hug from Ellen when his eyes land on a familiar shape at the bar. It's Cas- of course, it's Cas -and even when Ellen has loosened her grip Dean still can't manage to catch his breath. He's got that same look on his face as he did when Dean last saw him, like somehow Dean was responsible for spinning the entire goddamn planet on it's axis. He's got his feet tucked in the bottom rung of the barstool and it makes him look like a fucking  _ idiot _ in a trench coat that still seems too big for him. But, he looks so goddamn  _ good  _ in the low light of the roadhouse with the flickering neons glinting in the tips of his hair like some sort of fucked up halo and Dean just wants to kiss the celestial shit out of him. 

He doesn't rush over, though. They've got all the time in the world.

He passes Ellen off to Sammy, gives her arm a final absent-minded pat before strolling over to the beer counter, never breaking eye contact. 

"Hey, Cas," Dean presses as much warmth as he can into those two words. 

"Hello, Dean." Cas's voice is perfect. That's the only word Dean can think of to describe it. And he must have been deaf all these years to not hear the affection Cas puts into his name. He clears his throat and ignores the fact that he's been on the brink of tears more times today than in his entire life before. If this is what heaven is like, he thinks as he sees the two fifths of whiskey waiting at Cas's elbow, he'd better get used to it. Cas slides over his glass and grabs his own. Dean drags his eyes away from the way his fingers cradle the tumbler to the amber liquid and already knows it will be the best thing he's ever tasted. Somewhere in the soft glow of the windowed chandelier there's a water of life joke. 

"We celebrating?" Dean asks wryly as Cas gently touches the rim of his glass to Dean's. 

"I thought that would be appropriate, yes." Cas brings the cup to his lips and Dean mirrors the gesture. He can't think of anything to say so he just hums in response to Cas and revels in the way all the gold in the room seems to smooth over his tongue, slip down his throat and pool in the crevice behind his heart. 

They are sitting knee to knee, opposite elbows propped on the bar top, Dean resting his glass on one denim-clad thigh and tracing the ring of dampness it leaves behind. They drink in silence for a bit until the giddiness under Dean’s skin is nearly unbearable and has to open his mouth.

“Heard you’re the one with the blueprints for this place.”

“No, uh,” for a moment Cas glances away, “Jack helped.”

Maybe gravity doesn’t exist in paradise, because Dean has never felt so light. 

“Uh huh.” He throws on his smarmiest smile and swings a leg up and bullies Cas’s ass sideways until his boot fits snugly on the stool.

“What are you doing?” Castiel is going for confused and non-affected, but Dean knows him better. 

“Whatever the hell I want.” His cheeks are getting sore from how wide he’s smiling but Cas’s response of a truly impressive eye-roll is all the payment Dean needs. 

“Why are you doing this?” Cas pulls out the words reluctantly, but there’s a spark of hope in his eyes.

“Because,” Dean dramatically rolls his shoulders, “because! Maybe I just want to be an asshole. Maybe I never want you to leave. Maybe I just want to tell you I think you’re cute when you’re annoyed. It’s my heaven I can say whatever the  _ fuck I want _ !” Dean crows the last bit, barely holding back the gleeful whoop that threatens to escape his chest. 

“Not when I’m in earshot, boy.”

Ellen’s warning tone pulls his gaze away from Cas to where she glares at them down the bar.

“Yeah,” rejoins Jo, voice dripping with sarcasm, “my ears are far too young for that type of language.” She’s cradling three beers in her arms, making her way back to a booth where Ash and Sammy sit with their heads close together over a laptop. She wanders too close to Dean and he immediately takes the opportunity to poke her side and beer sloshes down her front. 

“Fuck!”

“Joanna Beth!” 

The glare Jo gives him is deadly but Dean isn’t worried (for obvious reasons).

“Eternity with your mom, huh? How’s that going for ya?” He passes her napkins in apology.

“Better with her than with a memory,” Jo’s reply is light, and Dean takes a moment to send a thank-you to Jack, wherever he is. 

“You think I’m... cute?” Cas’s voice is slow and when Dean turns back to him his eyes are squinted as if he doesn’t know if he should be flattered or offended.

This would be the part where Dean would backpedal. Where his crushing fear of  _ things will go wrong _ would hit him with full force. But they are  _ here _ now so he says:

“Naw, Cas,  _ Cas _ ,” he says it again, just to revel in the fact that he can, “I think you're goddamn incredible. Cas, I think you're a fucking miracle. I think,” he pauses for a moment to take a breath, “that you, Castiel, you're the best thing that ever happened to me.” The burning sun inside him suddenly mellows, into something soft and spreading, and Dean dips his words into the solemnity. “Ever since you pulled my sorry ass outta hell, you’ve saved me, you’ve been saving me. You’ve saved me in every way possible.” Cas looks like he’s about to say something, but Dean’s not finished. “And I love you for it. Really, truly, love you.” He’s grabbed Cas’s hand at some point and he grips it tighter. “Cas, you ain’t the only one who’s been changing.” He drags their hands to press against his pounding heart, and the next breath he takes shudders slightly. “Me too,” and he’s crying, “me too.” 

Castiel’s kiss is measured and deliberate when it’s given to him, but Dean doesn’t mind. 

This is it. This is home. This is paradise. 

They’ve got all the time in the world. 

**Author's Note:**

> uhhh and then after this Dean and Cas live above the Roadhouse until they convince Jo and Ellen to move out somehow and Dean finally gets his own bar like he always dreamed and him and Cas run it.  
> eventually Claire arrives and whenever Dean or Sam is holding Miracle she'll start to sing "I want to see my little boy" much to the continued confusion of Cas (and frustration bc Dean has forbidden anyone to explain it to him) 
> 
> a little ooc but i found it incredibly healing -- i've never been so thoroughly wrecked by a finale (ugly sobbing on the highway and dealing with bouts of nausea) so i hope this can offer so of those equally afflicted with some peace. 
> 
> love you all very much <3
> 
> If you'd like to find me, I am forever clowning on [ Twitter ](https://twitter.com/librarian_gamer?s=07) \-- hellerism truly is a disease


End file.
